


The Wrecking Ball

by all-or-nothing-baby (BundleOfSoy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: #BecauseSam, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Eventual Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, No Plot/Plotless, Other, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam Fucking Winchester, Sam Winchester Gets What Sam Winchester Wants, Sam Winchester Takes Care of Reader, Sam Winchester in Love, Sam Winchester smells better than Heaven, Sam Winchester's Expressive Face, Sam Winchester's Eyes, Sam needs you to be okay, Sam wants you to be okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 09:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18962119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BundleOfSoy/pseuds/all-or-nothing-baby
Summary: Sam's face tells a thousand stories...Now it has a new offering-- just for you.





	The Wrecking Ball

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write CharacterxReader fics.
> 
> bUT
> 
> This was a teeny-tiny one-shot I gifted to my friend, Chris, an age ago... because, dear, you are a light in the dark.

Sam has _The Look_.

You've seen variations of it a few times now, whenever you've taken a bump or scratch on a hunt with the Winchesters.

At first, _The Look_ is **fear** _;_ a feral panic that your pain is caused by some serious physical trauma. He scans every part of you he can see, assessing the damage, strange coloured eyes darting all over you.

 _The Look_ then morphs into the less frantic **concern** , as a confidence sets like concrete in his chest that, this time around - thank Chuck - there's no significant danger.

So, Sam's brow knots together with those already familiar frown lines that sit firmly between his eyes, jaw is clenching tightly shut as he slowly decides: y _ou're okay._

Then it's **relief**  hitting like a balloon bursting; just before **guilt**  bubbles up to the surface as he remembers your pain is real, however minor.

 _The Look is_ then perfectly portraying his overwhelming urge to just _Make It All Stop_ \- to make sure you're never hurt or ever put in danger again because of him and his brother - and it's spreading across his features like wildfire.

Until it's **recognition** that's settling heavy atop his brow, at knowing he can't simply wish all that want into reality.

Yeah, _That Look_.

All those emotions in just one moment, animating his face for anyone to see. He couldn't hide it-- he wouldn't know how. This isn't Poker, it's **protection** ; Sam Winchester's core instinct.

But _That Look_? Today it's somehow different. It's laced with something...

_More._

There's now something **quietly fierce**  behind those golden-blue-brown coloured, soft-yet-piercing eyes of his. Something that's been waiting, holding back. Something...

 _Raw_.

And you see it all over him now, not just in Sam's unique sunflower eyes, but somehow flashing in bright neon all over his huge body.

 _That Look_ has been torched, lit on fire-- and is now yearning with a kind of...

 _Hunger_.

You almost hadn't noticed big hands framing your face.

Sam's never shy about physical contact when hunting - scanning for bone-breaks, checking for cuts - but the way he's putting his hands on you now? You _do_ notice. It's...

_New._

Just like _That Look,_  his protective touch is now jostling and mingling with something **tender** yet **strong,**   **commanding** yet **gentle** ; and it's somehow even more **caring** \-- but also so very...

_Urgent._

Sam's fully holding your head in his hands now, tilting your face upwards towards his. He's breathing in deep, his _New Look_ fixed solely on you and--

_Holy shit._

It's paralyzing.

This foreign _New Look_ is sending both ice-tendrils splintering down your spine and a pulsing heat straight to your core. Your stomach's flip-flopping, you're blinking too much and--

_Oh, God._

He's so very close now. You see nothing and no one but...

_Sam._

Then you breathe in deep too, and the crisp scents you inhale, filling you up to the brim, leave your senses drunk-ass and longing:

There's spearmint and fresh laundry; there's sharp lemon and soft suede and there's...

 _Sam._ Smelling better than Heaven itself.

And looking up now through fanned lashes, your heavy eyes meeting his gaze, you take in this burning _New Look -_ Sam's searing, breathtaking and full-on _New Look -_ and sense an urge so damn truthful; so loaded and thick with  ** _need_** it's almost, almost...

_Desperate._

There's just this pure **_desire_ **for something...

Then when you're breathing each other's hot breath; when you can hear Sam's heart thumping a quick-time which syncs with your own; when the last inch between your dropped-open mouth and his parted pink lips is closing in, fast disappearing, with your eyes now round and almost as wide as Dean's Baby's wheels, your whole body screaming and squirming under the beautiful tirade of this intense and crucifying and white-hot _New Look..._

Finally - _finally_ \- it hits you, like a goddamn wrecking ball...

_Sam. Wants. You._

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty please leave kudos, if you enjoyed Sam enjoying you. I'll be ever grateful! And if you comment, I'll probably pass out with adoration... then reply on coming to.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this tiny piece-- know I have Sam-sized love for you!


End file.
